Monster High: Gargoyle Style
by DraculauraakaLala
Summary: This is about Rochelle Goyle, and her move from Paris to the USA, and how she deals with that and Deuce and such. This was meant to be kind of a spin-off of the book series RATHER THAN THE SHOW. I know the first chapter isn't great, but it will get better as it goes on! btw it IS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE ROCHELLE IN CHARACTER. This is just how I'd have written her into the book series.


I smiled as I stepped onto the concrete ground. Finally, back on steady earth! I hate being off of the ground; It is not steady, nor is safe in my opinion. My antique suitcase was dragging behind me, with grumbles and rustles coming from inside. "Shhh…" I muttered, completely unable to wipe my smile off my face. I was finally here!

I hurried quickly into the airport building, where I would soon be picked up. But first, I needed a touch-up. I immediately made a beeline for the women's restroom. "Good," I whispered to myself when I saw that nobody was inside. I really did need the whole bathroom to myself. If there had been someone in one of the stalls, I just don't know what I would have done.

I unlatched my suitcase quickly, chuckling when my pet gargoyle griffin scurried out. "Roux," I said, "can you take care of the door?" She hurried over and climbed onto the handle, wrapping herself around it in a way that it would not be able to be opened from the outside. "Thanks, Roux," I said, seriously thankful.

I turned and looked at my reflection in the bathroom's dirty, spotted mirror. My makeup had seriously faded since I had applied it last night. It took only a moment to reach back into my suitcase and extract a small jar of pale concealer. I dabbed it generously onto my gray, speckled face and rubbed it all over, trying to conceal my actual skin color. Then I touched up my average-teenage-girl makeup, consisting mainly of blusher, eye shadow, eyeliner and mascara. And of course, a fresh coat of gloss never hurt anyone.

I felt my wings twitching beneath my green American Eagle jacket, which happened to be the "Next Big Thing" in America, according to the French fashion magazines I'd read while preparing for this trip. I glanced over at Roux, making sure that she was still manning the door. Then I allowed the jacket to slide down my arms and puddle onto the floor. My wings stretched to their full wingspan as I tipped my head back and closed my eyes, enjoying the feeling of a nice stretch after being still for so long. I hadn't been able to unfold my wings since I'd boarded the plane.

_Knock. Knock. Knock_. There was a pounding against the door. "Attendant!" a woman's voice called outside the door. "Crud," I mumbled, realizing that I was stuck. The woman's voice rang out again. "The door won't open!"

I slipped my jacket back on as quickly as possible. There was no way out. If they got the door open and saw me in here, they'd assume that I'd been the one to lock the door. Which, okay, I had, but I couldn't risk getting in trouble already! I'd just gotten here, and quite a lot was riding on my being here. And if I did truly get caught, I could be deported instantly! There was no way I could let them see me.

I had only one option: to do the thing I was best at. It would be a bit before an attendant arrived; the airport was extremely busy today, and since there were a few other bathrooms scattered about, it would not be an emergency to get this one open right away. I only wished that it did not have to be this way.

I grabbed some paper towels and began to wet them. Then I scrubbed my face as hard as possible, trying to remove any excess makeup. It took little time to then strip of my clothing, as I was accustomed to do, considering my species. I laid my suitcase on its side and sat on it, with legs crossed, and one hand covering my chest. I perched my other hand in the air, and looked at Roux expectantly. She hurried over, perching off my palm.

I knew if a stranger were to look at me, they would not think me real. They would think me just what I am: a Gargoyle. They would think me an unmoving statue. I only hoped that they would not try to make sense of why such a fancy statue might be in such a crummy airport restroom.

A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened forcefully. Instead of a maintenance worker or attendant, as I'd expected, it was only a young mother and her young daughter. The mother looked to be around twenty, and the daughter around four. She obviously loved the little girl, though.

"Alright, Mommy, you go potty an' I'll stay right here," the little girl said happily. If I were not maintaining such a rock-solid position, I might have smiled. "All right, Kaycee," the mother said, stepping into a stall. "Keep talking to me so I don't get scared, all right?" It was obvious that the mother was only pretending to be scared so that Kaycee didn't wander off, but it was a smart idea anyway.

That was when Kaycee saw me. "Momma, there's a naked lady!" she exclaimed. She ran over and started to reach for my eye, just as her mother left the stall. "Kace, don't touch that!" she exclaimed, running over and pulling her daughter away. "It's probably covered in germs!" I felt slightly offended, but I said nothing, because it would not have been smart to do so.

The mother washed her hands and then passed by, glancing at me with a look of disgust. "The things they consider art these days," she muttered disapprovingly. When she was gone and the door was closed, I leapt up. I needed to hurry up and get out of here.

I slipped quickly out the door. Whenever someone glanced my way, I froze like a statue. I might have hated being so naked in public, if I hadn't spent the last 415 years of my life sitting that way on a cathedral. I was able to sneak off into a janitor's closet to change… for real this time. I smothered my face in concealer once more, this time using my cellular telephone's camera as a mirror. I slid back into my clothes and tucked my tiny wings under my jacket. They needn't be seen.

When I looked once more like a Normie, I exited out of the closet, keeping my posture straight and my attitude somewhat passive. I couldn't stop thinking about what Kacee's mother had said, though. Was I really so ugly?

The vibration of my cellular startled me. It was a text message. My parents had allowed me to purchase cellular telephones for myself, them, and of course, my boyfriend, Garrott. This way I will be able to keep in touch with them while they are all the way back home, in Paris.

The message was pretty short. "I'll pick you up in ten. Sorry I'm late. Traffic." It was sent by the person picking me up, which would be Garrott's cousin, Granite. I would be staying with their family while I was here in America. I hoped that it would be awhile.

I sent back a quick message as well: "Alright, I shall be waiting. Please let me know when you arrive." I hoped that the message did not sound cold to him. If anything, I did not want to offend Garrott's cousin!

I spent the ten minutes playing mindless games on the cellular. Honestly, if you're going to live forever anyway, you might as well waste some time doing something mindless, just because you _can_.

_Bzzzzt_._ Bzzzzt_. My cellular phone vibrated again. "By the front door," the message read. I leapt up and grabbed my suitcase. I had to hold my hat on my head as I ran, determined to not let it fall off and expose my gargoyle ears.

Granite stood by the door, running a hand through his hair. Wow, he sure was muscular! I'd never seen anyone so big! His eyes skimmed right over me as he continued to search the crowd. I stopped right in front of him. "Granite?" I asked excitedly. I recognized him instantly, as he looked almost identical to Garrott, other than being more muscular and having actual hair.

"Rochelle?" he asked, scanning me over with his eyes. I nodded happily. His eyes widened. "Wow, when Garrott said you were beautiful, he really meant it! You're hot!" he said. I felt a blush creep into my cheeks. I was grateful for all the makeup so that he could not see my reddened face. "Thank you," I said gratefully.

He just laughed. "So, are you ready to go to go?" I nodded in response. "Excellent," he said, "The car's this way." He began walking out of the airport building, so I followed behind like a lost little puppy. But rather than feeling lost, for once, I felt found.


End file.
